A Burglar, but not a Weirdo
by ALMH
Summary: Harry revisits Ruth in episode 4.9.


She slipped her key in the lock, gently turning it and pushing open the door. Exhausted she closed it after her, taking her coat off and carefully putting it on the banister. Her cat crept in, rubbing it's back against her. She knelt down, gently stroking it gently. It was only then when she noticed the light on in the kitchen. Nervously she stood up, and quietly walked in.

"You're early," the man said loudly.

She let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, it's you," she told Harry, loosening her scarf. "I thought that you were a burglar."

"But not a weirdo," he answered. They both smiled. "I guess a burglar must be a step up. Get a lot of weird burglars here?"

"Only you and Angela. Do you want a drink?" He nodded and she quickly deposited her bag on one of the empty seats, then got him out a glass.

"Hang on, what do you mean and Angela?" he asked, taking the glass. "Angela Wells?"

"Seems that Spooks can't use the conventional way in," she said, almost mournfully. She finished what she was doing, then looked back up at Harry. "Harry, what are you doing here, Juliet said you'd gone missing."

"I need to pick your brains," he answered. She made herself a drink, and sat down opposite Harry.

"About Lewis Khurvin, yes?" she asked. He nodded.

"I spoke to a contact. Pollard will have already got his man, target and legend sorted. He's using Khurvin to launch an attack on British soil to rally up support for an invasion into Iran -"

"He's got an Iranian to commit a terrorist act here so that they can have public support behind another war?"

"It seems likely. But I can't help thinking to forcibly remove Khurvin, put him in orange overalls and ship him off to Guantameno Bay sent Roscoe over the edge. Did you manage to trace the neighbour who made the phone call?"

"No... But if it had been one of the neighbours... If it had been one of the neighbours they would have used their own home phones, so it can't have been one of them." She suddenly realised. "So it was either someone who had been passing through - but it can't be, because I checked all the CCTV, the only people there were accounted for, so -"

"It was the Americans," Harry realised. She nodded.

"Looks like you've been set up," she told him. She stood up and walked out, bringing back a laptop, opening it up and turning it on. Then she put a memory stick in the back of the computer.

"Taking work home with you Ruth?" he asked, teasing her slightly. "How come you're home so early, it's only 8."

Her smile faded. "Couldn't stand the company. Juliet decided that she was working late too. And the longer I stayed the more requests I seemed to get from the Americans." He nodded sympathetically.

"Ah. How is she?"

"The same," she answered, typing her password into the computer. "I think you ought to see this..." she paused just before opening the file. "I was doing background checks on Pollard. But we had nothing on our system, and the Americans were hardly being co-operative -"

"So what've you got?" he asked. She bit her lip nervously as she brought up the file. His eyes widened slightly.

"I managed to get hold of this."

"How?" he asked, only just managing monosyllabic words. He knew that she could get virtually any document, but this? A file containing information about Pollard, from US Intelligence, stating his mission (black op,) and targets.

"Do you really want to know?" she asked. He didn't answer. Ruth had a talent for getting the most hidden files, how exactly he dreaded knowing.

He sighed internally. "Ok, what's Juliet's official line? What does she think about this deniable asset?" Ruth squirmed slightly. "Ruth, have you shown her this?"

"She didn't ask to see it, so I didn't show her," she admitted.

He shook his head. "Ruth..." He stopped. "The attack is planned for tomorrow, isn't it?" She nodded. "Well, you focus on the attack, I'll sort out Pollard. Can I borrow the memory stick?" she pulled it out from the computer and handed it to him.

"You're not going to do anything stupid are you?" she asked him quietly. He smiled, placing the memory stick in his coat pocket.

"Do I ever?" he asked, and she gave him a weak smile. He never seemed able to keep himself out of trouble. He stood up, and as he walked past gently squeezed her shoulder. She turned round to watch him leave through her back door.


End file.
